The First Class Graduates to Instructors

There were three training courses in total.

In the Belphegor's Fatigue magic circle, we awakened the body's physical senses.

In Orobas's Thirst, we raised mana sensitivity.

The mana stimulation fit this one far better than Saleos's Debauchery.

"That's a rather harsh way to put it."

A small sacrifice for the greater good.

Or we could call it a holy service.

Anyone watching would think I had poked them in the ribs out of pure malice.

After the curse-applied torture—no, training—we moved on to individual instruction time.

"Owl Number Ten."

"Ack!"

"Thrust your sword."

The estoc.

Or the long blade ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠known as a rapier shot forward like a streak of light.

"Your thrusting technique is decent. However, the movement of your mana and muscles is slightly out of sync."

"Ack!"

"It's fine to go slowly. Think of it as feeling the flow and becoming one with it."

"Aaaack!"

Igor focused entirely on the estoc in his hand. He was working hard to adapt my advice into his movements.

"Well, he does have talent. He's also a guy with a connection to the Goddess."

"In his previous life, Igor was Antonio's mortal enemy."

High Ranker Antonio.

He was the original owner of Nyx's holy relic, the Shadow Orb.

"It's true they're connected."

To be honest, Antonio's shadow ability had more raw firepower than my darkness dominion. Shadow and the darkness of night. The rank of the ability was naturally higher for Polar Night, but because the shadow was far easier to operate, the power came out stronger. He had even embedded the Shadow Orb directly in his forehead for extra support.

Antonio had been a villain who ruled the South American underworld on the strength of that orb.

"Igor was the one who never yielded to that darkness."

Now that I had claimed the Shadow Orb, the future had changed as well.

Even though Antonio had been a one-trick pony reliant on the holy relic, he must have possessed some talent to reach high ranker status. In both lives, the two of them seemed fated to clash.

"Well, I don't know how it will turn out."

He was also one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the few PT participants whose previous-life memories had been stimulated. I hoped the hardship of traveling all the way to this distant land would prove worthwhile.

"Analyst Thomas."

"Yes. Following Master's feedback, destructive power has risen by twelve percent."

"Please record everything as data."

As I had mentioned beforehand, PT would be conducted periodically. It would be inefficient for me to carve out time every single session, so I needed Analyst Thomas to observe the training process and learn it himself.

"The phrase 'gaining real experience' fits the situation better."

I watched Igor with my arms crossed.

"May I ask one thing?"

"By all means."

"Is there a reason you conducted the training so coercively without any explanation?"

"It's a matter of race and religion."

"Ah—" A sound that might have been a groan or an exclamation of understanding slipped from Thomas's mouth.

Since the Tower of Babel appeared, the language barrier had vanished. Even so, conflicts stemming from skin color had not.

"There aren't that many open-minded people without prejudice like you, Analyst."

"That is..."

"Do you remember when we went to Dream Land?"

Thomas's complexion darkened.

"You mean those self-styled guardian knights."

"I was treated like a smelly monkey."

"Those men were a neo-Nazi organization."

"It's just a bit extreme. Issues of race and religion are scattered everywhere."

People like Thomas possessed open minds. William of Gold Moon? For him, the only question was whether the person he was talking to smelled like money. Race was irrelevant. Ellen Taylor also had an extremely gentle personality aside from her competitive drive.

While staying in Germany clearing gates and after stopping Rene Davis's schemes, my growing fame prevented the same kind of trouble I had faced in Russia.

"Not every player will be like me."

"...You have a point."

Having experienced the future, I could say it with certainty. Even during the third Great Erosion—when the age of destruction arrived—humanity had never truly united. Only when they believed it was the very end did they finally pool their strength.

"People, you see, somehow manage to unite their hearts when a common enemy appears."

Black? White? Asian? We don't make those distinctions. The moment they join PT, they're all simply owls. Look at the venom filling the kids' eyes. With those glares, they look ready to devour the instructors over and over.

"A common enemy, I see."

"Exactly."

"Calling them by owl numbers instead of names is also an arrangement so they won't concern themselves with each other's origins."

Uh. That wasn't exactly it.

It was simply following the beautiful tradition of our nation's military. But since dreams are open to interpretation, I saw no need to tell Thomas the truth.

"Haa."

The bizarre training method. The instructors, eyes bloodshot as if venting personal grudges rather than teaching anything. Perhaps that was why the players from all over the world, just as Jinho had said, were gradually beginning to breathe in sync. Hostility directed at the instructors in red hats could be felt. As their breathing aligned, training efficiency rose. In less than a week, something resembling camaraderie had already begun to sprout.

"That wasn't what I meant to write about today."

Thomas shook his head, trying to forget the atmosphere of the training grounds.

Without intending to, Jinho had helped Thomas discover a hidden aspect of his own ability.

A single week passed as swiftly as an arrow in flight.

On the final day, the thoroughly sharpened trainees stood in neat ranks, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠waiting for me to appear.

"Right? Look how straight they're standing."

Come on. Would the merciful Goddess really use sarcasm to mock me?

I climbed the hill where I had observed the situation on the first day of training and looked down at the trainees.

"Everyone did well."

"Ack!"

"You must have wondered why the training was so brutal and whether it was truly effective."

"Aaack!"

"However, the sweat you shed will never betray you."

While delivering the prepared lines, I flicked my finger at an angle the trainees could not see. Ping Lei, who had erased his presence and approached slowly, delivered a kick to the trainee at the end of the line.

Thud!

"Ah?"

Owl Number Ten. Igor looked startled as he blocked Ping Lei's foot with his estoc.

"That owl couldn't even react when his joints were attacked on the first day."

His senses had grown extremely sharp. Even though Ping Lei had not infused the strike with killing intent, the body that had learned to read air currents and mana wavelengths reacted on instinct.

"O-ohhh!"

Igor's face lit up with joy. The other trainees looked different. They had not yet felt the results of the training in their bones. Then I would make them feel it.

Snap!

When I flicked my finger, all the curses shimmering at the gate entrance vanished.

"Check your mana sensitivity."

"...This is impossible."

"The control feels as natural as breathing."

"Emission speed has been cut in half!"

Throughout training they had rolled around in a field rearranged with the curses of the seventy-two demons. With dulled senses, they could not have known how much their physical senses and mana sensitivity had risen.

"The way to become stronger isn't only by raising your specs."

Consider a fighting game. Even if both sides choose characters with identical specs, there will still be a winner and a loser. Reaction speed. Understanding a move's range and delay. Victory or defeat is decided by how well one understands the character and how quickly one reads the opponent's movements.

The same is true for players.

"Get used to your sharpened senses. Then the next realm will come into view."

The realm of transcendence. To step beyond the domain perceived by mortals, one must push the senses to their limit. Of course, there were many other mountains to climb, but the players who participated in the first PT had taken their first step.

Half-hearted debuffs could never have driven them this far. Thanks to Sin Infection and Ars Goetia & Cocytus, I had been able to design this curriculum.

Come on. While helping prepare the training, those friends had gained enlightenment of their own. I had given them a rare opportunity, so they were probably grateful.

I pretended not to hear Nyx's whisper and spoke again.

"PT will be held regularly from now on."

"Aack!"

"I hope our owls—no, the trainees—will work hard as instructors."

"Aaaaack!"

Now that the training results had been confirmed and I had praised the first batch for their hard work, any lingering resentment should have vanished.

Probably.

Moreover, I was giving them the chance to pass the harsh love—no, the training—down to the next group. Could they refuse?

I slowly descended the hill and took out the red hats I had stored in my subspace pouch. When I placed one on a trainee's head, flames ignited in their eyes.

"Good work. I look forward to your cooperation in the future."

"Ack!"

As I placed a hat on each head one by one, the atmosphere grew heated. Excellent. With this, the number of instructors available for future PT sessions had increased by ten. Since they lived in different regions, gathering everyone at once would be difficult, but more available hands meant less work for me.

"Those who have suffered through it tend to do it well."

Uhehehehehe.

The friends coming for training next time would surely be startled by the seasoned instructors' spicy flavor, right?